


A Wintersend Holiday

by mephistos



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consent Play, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mephistos/pseuds/mephistos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's midwinter in Skyhold. The Inquisitor has kindly given the inner circle a few days off and Dorian, after a long day of research, decides he's had enough...and starts asking Bull to teach him a new language. Or several. And pretty soon it dissolves into heavy flirting, which then leads to something else entirely.</p><p>This was written for the Adoribull Secret Santa gift exchange, and I decided to post it up here after seeing how depressing the Adoribull tag has gotten. This is pretty much my first (published) fanfiction, so comments and constructive critiques are appreciated. My sincerest apologies for liberties taken with the various languages, and for the likely butchering I did in regards to French and Latin. (Translations are located at the end.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wintersend Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hotrodngold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotrodngold/gifts).



“How many languages do you speak, Bull?” Dorian asked suddenly.

Dorian and The Iron Bull were sitting in Dorian’s room, light filtering through the window. The mage was sprawled across his chair, slouching away from a pile of books. Bull looked up from the book he’d been reading, his eyes refocusing on the real world.

“Huh?”

“How many languages do you speak?” Dorian repeated patiently, looking over at Bull with an expression that said _I’m bored. Please distract me from all of this._

“Good question.” Bull placed a bookmark where he’d stopped reading and set the book aside, sitting up slowly. “Let’s see…Qunlat is my first language, obviously. I also speak fluent trade tongue.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“I also know Orlesian,” Bull scratched his head. “And a little Tevene, though my accent is shit. I also know a few Rivaini words and phrases, but not enough to actually get myself around. Gatt was better at Rivaini than I was.”

“Gatt?” Dorian frowned. It was a moment before he remembered. “Ah, yes. That elven man we met in the Storm Coast. The _viddathari_.”

Bull raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised you know what a _viddathari_ is.”  
Dorian smirked. “Why should that surprise you?”

Bull chuckled and leaned back. “Maybe it shouldn’t. What about you? How many languages do you speak?”

“Not very many,” Dorian sighed, twirling a pen between his fingers. “Tevene is naturally my first language, and I know passable Ancient Tevene, though that hardly counts as speaking a language.”

“Why’s that?” Bull asked curiously.

“Because no one actually speaks it,” Dorian rolled his eyes again. “No one has been able to read or write Ancient Tevene in over a thousand years. It’s a dead language. In Tevinter, only the upper class use scant phrases now and again to sound educated.”

Bull laughed. “Sounds about right.”

“I wouldn’t mind learning Orlesian,” Dorian continued. “I know enough to get by, but I’m hardly fluent.”

“I could teach you,” Bull offered, sounding amused. “It wouldn’t be hard, if you already know the language. All I’d be doing is expanding your vocabulary.”

Dorian hummed, setting the pen down and facing Bull properly. “Would you be interested in teaching me Qunlat as well?”

Bull arched an eyebrow. “Why would you be interested in Qunlat?”

“For the same reason you’re interested in Tevene?” Dorian suggested, smiling innocently.

“Back when I was Ben-Hassrath, I was supposed to know Tevene,” Bull pointed out. “I hardly have reason to need it now, especially when I’ve got a ‘Vint here that can translate things for me.”

“True,” Dorian conceded with a shrug. “But all the same, it would make for an interesting time, don’t you think?”

Bull nodded. Truth be told, he missed speaking the language of his birth, and reliving the language, even if it was teaching Dorian a few simple phrases, was a tantalizing notion. Dorian beamed.

“Excellent.” Dorian turned back to his research materials—a variety of books, scrolls, and spare bits of parchment—and with a soft noise of disgust pushed everything (carefully) aside so he didn’t have to look at it anymore. “Let’s start now.”

Bull snorted. “Now? Why?”

“Because I’m bored,” Dorian stretched, giving Bull a simpering look.

“Alright,” Bull chuckled. “Which language do you want to start with?”

Dorian pondered for a moment. “Orlesian?”

“ _Que devrions-nous parler?_ ” Bull asked, making the language switch as easily as putting on a new outfit. (1)

Dorian sniffed, his accent passable. “ _Tout ce que vous voulez_.” (2)

“ _Parlons de l'amour, mon cœur._ ” Bull smirked slightly. “ _Et peut-être l'acte d'aimer, si vous souciez de me rejoindre sur ce lit._ ” (3, 4)

Dorian struggled with understanding that last part, his mind working embarrassingly slowly to translate. Bull chuckled and opened his arms in invitation. “I was inviting you to come over here.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “There was more to it than that.”

“Yes,” Bull grinned, but didn’t elaborate.

Dorian hesitated, working out a reply. “ _Vous savez que je serais heureux de vous rejoindre._ ” (5)

“Then come here.” Bull laughed and pulled Dorian onto his lap, reaching across the small space easily.

“You don’t have to ask twice,” Dorian shook his head, smiling.

“Clearly I do, since I did ask twice,” Bull smirked. Dorian gave him a flat look and Bull laughed, kissing Dorian’s forehead lightly.

“Which one next?” Bull asked.

“Rivaini?” Dorian suggested, but Bull shook his head.

“Too difficult to start out with. It’s an odd blend of languages, and I’m not sure I’d be a good teacher.”

“Then how did you come to learn it?” Dorian asked, curiously.

“Before I was sent to Seheron, I spent some time in Kont-aar. I picked up the language while I was there.” Bull shrugged.

Dorian nodded, looking interested. “What was Kont-aar like?”

“Like any other Qunari settlement outside of Par Vollen,” Bull said evasively. “Nothing special, though I doubt you’d want to pay it a visit.”

Dorian pursed his lips, but nodded. “I’ll take your word for it, then.”

“How about Tevene?” Bull suggested mildly. “My accent is shit, but I know you can never resist the opportunity to laugh at me.”

“I would never laugh at you,” Dorian chuckled. “Let’s see…you expressed you wanted to talk about love.”

“ _Feci, vere,_ ” Bull nodded. The Tevene felt rough and foreign on his tongue. “…What is the Tevene word for love?” (6)

“ _Amare._ ” Dorian dipped his chin down and lowered his eyelids seductively, adding for good measure, “ _Te amo._ ” (7, 8)

“Alright, how do you say, ‘I want to sleep with you’?” Bull smirked.

Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “ _Volo fornicandum tecum_.” (9)

Bull leaned his head forward and gently nibbled along Dorian’s earlobe. He felt the man’s sigh brush against the side of his head, and he let go long enough to whisper, “ _Dimitte me, ut voluptatem, amatus_.” (10)

Dorian groaned. That shouldn’t have been nearly as sexy as it turned out to be. Bull grinned against the skin of Dorian’s neck, his thumbs moving in slow circles over the layers of fabric the mage wore.

“ _Pulchris verbis. Potes agere in illis?_ ” Dorian hummed, keeping his composure. (11)

“ _Plus ego quam_.” Bull sucked a patch of skin just behind Dorian’s ear, moving on before it could turn into a bruise but lingering long enough to cause Dorian’s skin to erupt in goosebumps.

Dorian suppressed a shiver. Bull’s voice was giving his imagination too much fodder.

“Say that in Qunlat.”

“Say what in Qunlat?” Bull pulled away to give Dorian a questioning look, amused.

“It doesn’t matter. Anything relating to the current topic.” Dorian waved a hand vaguely. “I like hearing your voice.”

“ _Shanehedan, saartoh-bas_ ,” Bull smirked, his eye glancing down to where he could feel Dorian’s half-hard cock press against his stomach. “ _Shokrakar sataareth kaaras iss, vinek itwa-ost_.” (12)

Dorian, catching the movement of Bull’s eye, felt heat crawling up his face. Even without understanding Bull’s words, he could understand the intent. “And that means…?”

“It means,” Bull’s voice dropped to a low rumble, “That you get to tell me what it is you want me to do to you. And if you argue, I’ll pin you down and work my way slowly around your body until you’re begging me to let you come.”

Dorian couldn’t suppress a shiver this time, his eyes half closed in a sultry, seductive manner. “I’m not so certain that’s a bad plan, _amatus_. After all, isn’t a Qunari meant to conquer?”

“Tal-vashoth,” Bull reminded him mildly. His hands slid down Dorian’s legs and across his thighs. “But if you want me to play the conquering Qunari, then you can be the freshly captured Magister.”

“Hmm,” Dorian hummed thoughtfully, running his own hands down Bull’s shoulders to his chest. “An interesting idea. Will there be ropes?”

“Can’t have your _bas-saarebas_ hands free to set me on fire,” Bull smirked.

“Bull, _amatus_ ,” Dorian sighed in reply, leaning back so they could see each other clearly. “That was one time. And I don’t need to have the use of my hands to set things on fire.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Bull’s grin grew wider. “Would you like me to work you to the point where you do set things on fire?”

Dorian felt himself growing hard at the thought. “Don’t you Qunari have ways of suppressing magic?”

“Not like a Templar,” Bull shook his head. “But I suppose I could always find a collar for you.”

He traced a finger across Dorian’s collarbones. “Ropes to keep your pretty hands from moving, a collar to keep you from using magic.”

“But you still need get information from me,” Dorian added, shivering at the touch. “So I have to be able to talk.”

“The better to put your mouth to good use, too,” Bull rumbled, grinning as he saw Dorian swallow.

“Will you need to go back to your room for supplies?” Dorian asked, shifting on Bull's lap.

“Supplies,” Bull scoffed. “You make it sound clinical.”

“Toys, then,” Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I probably should. You want to stay here or come with me?”

“You go ahead,” Dorian kissed Bull lightly before sliding off of his lap and back onto his chair with a light smirk. “I’ll change outfits while I wait.”

Bull raised an eyebrow and stood. “I look forward to seeing it, then.”

Dorian nodded and watched as Bull left, waiting a few minutes for Bull to walk out of earshot before standing and crossing the room to his wardrobe.

While Dorian himself had no issue with wearing suitably traditional Tevene clothing, there was a limit to how much he wanted to flaunt his heritage amongst people who typically frowned upon Tevinter as a whole. That didn’t actually stop Dorian from bringing clothing from his homeland, however. He pulled the ensemble out of the wardrobe, stripped, and put on the flowing outfit, all dark fabric and glistening silver.

Dorian looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his kohl and mustache, and reshaped his hair with a little water magic to his liking. He stepped back to study his reflection, practicing the haughty expression he’d seen other Magisters wear on previous visits to the Magisterium. He was delighted to find that, even wearing traditional clothing and a sneer of superiority, he didn’t look like his father at all.

He sat back down at his desk, taking out a pen and ink and a sheaf of parchment. He didn’t feel like going back to his research notes, so instead he fell back on copying out memorized poetry while he waited.

 

 

Bull, meanwhile, was debating on putting on something reminiscent of vitaar without actually using the poisonous substance. He settled on his usual black paint, wishing he could use traditional _vitaar_ designs without feeling like a traitor when he did so. He felt a momentary pang of loss when he remembered that he’s no longer a true Qunari, but then he shook himself out of it, digging out older, more Qunari-like clothing from his trunk. Then he grabbed a length of silk cord and a padded collar and left, heading to Dorian’s room again.

He knocked, and Dorian magically pulled the door open with a casual wave of his hand.

“And here I thought you’d continue to keep me waiting,” Dorian drawled, turning to face Bull with the practiced smirk and a more arrogant lilt to his voice.  
Bull blinked and temporarily forgot what he was doing, his eye looking Dorian over. “Wow. You look good, kadan.”

“Of course I do,” Dorian stood, fluid grace doing everything to ensure Bull caught the full effect of the cloak and many layers of Dorian’s outfit. Bull whistled. He was going to have fun taking that off. “I look good in everything.”

“Including these?” Bull held up the rope and collar, a sly grin spreading across his features. He could see Dorian trying his best to suppress his reaction to seeing either object.

“I said _everything_ , amatus,” Dorian smirked.

Bull chuckled and let the door fall closed behind him. “So. How do you want to go about doing this?”

“Aren’t you the one doing the interrogating?” Dorian tossed his head back with another smirk. “Capture me.”

Bull grinned. “And then what? We roleplay this out?”

“I never mistook you for a bad actor,” Dorian agreed, tugging lightly on the chest strap of Bull’s shoulder guard.

Bull’s chest rumbled and he leaned down to give Dorian a kiss, but Dorian dodged, sliding out of Bull’s arms with a twirl of the cloak. He turned his back on Bull, crossing his arms and straightening his back into a stiff formality.

“Don’t presume to touch me,” Dorian said with false annoyance, his clipped tone managing to sound both annoyed and insulted at the same time.

Bull marveled at how quickly Dorian slid into the role. He fought to keep a grin from flowering onto his face as he growled, “I’m following orders. You’re to come with me.”

Dorian looked over his shoulder and arched a haughty eyebrow. “You dare to give me orders, oxman?”

“And I expect you to obey them,” Bull growled, taking a step closer.

Dorian lifted a lip in a snarl and raised his hand, a blast of cold but ultimately harmless ice hitting Bull in the face. Bull took a surprised step back, not expecting Dorian to actually use magic. He winked at Dorian’s concerned look, reassuring the mage that everything was fine.

“How dare you,” Dorian snarled, pretend anger making his body stiff as he drew himself up to his full height.

In answer, Bull grabbed one of Dorian’s hands and swung him around so he was off-balance, and before Dorian could recover or cast another spell, Bull had his hands trapped behind his back and the mage himself pinned to a wall, Bull’s mouth very close to Dorian’s ear.

Dorian gasped in surprise, stuttering for a moment before finding his voice again. “Let me go, you insufferable beast!”

“Beast, am I? Wonder what that makes you.” Bull slipped the ropes around Dorian’s wrists, tying his arms together, and tossed the mage (gently, if unceremoniously) onto the bed. Dorian landed on the mattress with a huff, the dramatic cloak looking ridiculous now that it was wrapped around his legs like seaweed.

“Now, you’re going to tell me exactly what it is you’re doing here,” Bull growled, stalking over to the bed and towering over Dorian, who lay there, trapped and awkwardly helpless. He knew that he'd be able to burn the ropes away if need be, but it was more fun pretending that he couldn't summon so much as a gust of wind like this. He glared up at the Qunari with defiance, eyes sparkling.

“I’m part of a diplomatic party from Minrathous,” Dorian spat. “Heading to Redcliffe in Ferelden. I certainly have no interest in whatever it is you oxmen are doing here. Now let me go, or the Imperium will burn you and your entire legion to the ground.”

“An impressive threat,” Bull mused, leaning down and gripping Dorian’s chin with his hand. “And if that’s all I thought it was, I’d let you go. But you’re lying, and I fully intend to discover what it is you’re really here for.”

“You’re a fool,” Dorian sneered, his eyes glinting. “You’ll get nothing from me.”

Bull smirked and let go, standing upright. “Oh yes? And what if I told you that your personal servant gave us everything?”  
Dorian narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“In exchange for his freedom, he willingly turned to the Qun and told us everything—why you’re here, what you intend to accomplish while you’re here…In fact, the only thing we lack is solid proof.”

“Then, if you have everything, why ask me?” Despite the fact that he was currently lying down, Dorian still managed to look down his nose at Bull. The effect might have been intimidating too, had he not been so thoroughly trapped by fabric and rope.

“The Qun demands I hear it from you.” Bull gave him a flat look.

Dorian growled something in Tevene. “I’ll give you nothing. No one will believe the word of a servant over that of a Magister. You have nothing you can possibly hold against me.”

Bull smirked. “I wonder if the Archon would think the same, once he discovered it was his pet Magister that caused a breach in his security.”

Dorian, not entirely certain with where this story was going, shook his head. “I don’t—”

“We know he has plans on moving locations. Setting up an ambush will be easy, and once word gets out that it was you who gave up that information—”

“I didn’t!” Dorian exploded, widening his eyes slightly in pretend panic. “You—!”

“Of course,” Bull sat down next to the mage and ran his fingers through Dorian’s hair gently. Dorian half-heartedly pretended to shy away from the touch. “I can make it so the Archon goes on his journey unharmed. If you tell us what we want to know, I’ll let you go and the Archon won’t be harmed.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then you are of no use to me,” Bull shrugged, standing and turning to the door.

“Wait!” Dorian struggled with his ropes and the cape, panting slightly with the effort. “ _Kaffas_ , I said wait, you insufferable man!”

Bull bit back a laugh and turned back, his expression neutral. “Yes?”

Dorian looked slightly panicked. “If the Archon is killed, Tevinter will go into chaos.”

“And they’ll target you first,” Bull nodded, crossing his arms. “So you have a good reason to listen to my offer. Unless you have an alternative solution?”

Dorian bit his lip. “I…it’s not a perfect solution. But if someone has to die…I’ll do it.”

Bull raised both of his eyebrows. Dorian was a damn good actor; if he hadn’t known the mage intimately, he might actually have believed what Dorian was saying. He frowned thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “You’d really sacrifice yourself to save the Archon?”

Dorian decided to pretend the Archon was Felix, making the performance more believable. He looked away, his shoulders stiff. “I would. Is that so surprising?”

“For a Magister? It surprises _me_ ,” Bull smirked. Dorian stuck his tongue out at him, momentarily breaking character. Bull coughed, hiding a laugh. “But killing you seems like such a waste.”

Bull shook his head, surreptitiously locking the door behind him. Dorian mouthed a silent ‘thanks,’ as he’d forgotten to lock the door himself.

“You made it seem like it was either myself or the Archon,” Dorian frowned. “I already told you I cannot tell you what it is you want to know. If you have an alternative where nobody has to die, I’d be willing to hear it.”

Bull hummed and slowly went over to the mage again, smirking when he saw Dorian gulp. “You could always work for me.”

Dorian opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it, instead throwing a glare at the Qunari looming over him. “And what, pray tell, would working for you entail?”

“It would mean that you and the Archon both live,” Bull shrugged. “It means that you’re protected from the Qun itself, as you wouldn’t become _viddathari_. You’d be safe from your own people, because I’d prevent information about our…encounter from getting out.”

“That…is a very generous offer,” Dorian said warily, watching Bull with narrowed eyes. “But nothing in this world is free. What do you want in return for this generosity?”

“Nothing,” Bull smirked. “Except for you, but you’re always free to decline my company.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “You’d let me walk away?”

“Not necessarily,” Bull shook his head. “I can hardly trust a mage, let alone one from a country the Qun has been at war with for so long.”

Dorian let out an exasperated sigh, starting to get impatient with the role-playing. “Just say it, will you? You want me to sleep with you in exchange for this protection. Is that it?”

Bull could tell Dorian was starting to get impatient and nodded, smoothing back Dorian’s tousled hair. “If you’re against that idea—”

Dorian broke character again, giving Bull a flat look. The man raised both hands in a defensive gesture. “Sorry.”

“I did agree to this, so stop stalling,” Dorian smirked, before sliding his face back into character, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And get on with it then, before I grow tired of this.”

Bull smirked. “Hold on there. I don’t want to risk you killing me with magic the moment your hands are free.”

“So what are you going to do, then? Fuck me with my clothes still on?” Dorian snorted.

“Mm. That’s a thought.” Bull picked up the padded leather collar from where he’d placed it near the bookshelf, unbuckling it and holding it up for Dorian to see. Dorian bit his lip and, noticing Bull was waiting for his permission, gave a subtle nod.

Bull bent down and waited for Dorian to lift his chin so he could buckle the leather in place, making sure it was loose enough to breathe easily, but wouldn’t catch on something and accidentally choke him. Looking at his handiwork, he licked his lips. “You look good.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow, haughty once again despite the compromising position. “Naturally. Now, are you going to continue to stare at me or are you going to get on with it?”

“Easy there,” Bull smirked, holding the side of Dorian’s head. “There’s no sense in rushing this, is there?”

He kissed Dorian slowly, deliberately drawing it out, causing Dorian to inhale sharply from impatience and sudden need. Bull broke away long enough to sit down and pull the mage onto his lap, kissing him with a bit more force. Dorian kissed back, matching pace easily.

Bull’s hands slowly worked their way along Dorian’s outfit, exploring the buckles and various clasps, deft fingers undoing the outfit slowly and methodically. The cape was the first thing to come off, sliding down Dorian’s shoulders and onto the floor. Dorian’s top layer came off next, buckles and fabric dropping onto the discarded cape, revealing a second layer of clothing—silk this time, dyed the same dark colors as the cloak—which was tucked through a belt and formed the part of the outfit that Bull initially assumed was a type of skirt. His hands attempted to find a way to Dorian’s bare skin and growled in mild frustration when he couldn’t, and Dorian smirked against Bull’s lips, drawing back to watch Bull’s expression.

“Do you need help?” he drawled, clearly amused at this minor victory.

“No,” Bull growled, taking advantage of the reprieve to figure out how Dorian’s outfit worked. “How did you even get into this thing?”

“I’m not telling you anything that you want to know,” Dorian reminded him, his smirk growing.

Bull huffed and began attacking Dorian’s belt, hoping that would help. It came off easily, revealing that the silk layer was only the second layer, the third underneath that. Dorian laughed at Bull’s incredulous expression.

“Kadan,” Bull gave him an odd look. “How many layers are you wearing?”

“Three,” Dorian’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “I did ask if you wanted help. You said no.”

“How am I going to get this off? It has sleeves,” Bull tugged at said sleeves, annoyed he hadn’t noticed before.

“Untie me,” Dorian suggested, chuckling. “This collar represents what your _saarebas_ typically wear, right? We can always say you used some sort of rod to prevent me from escaping using magic.”

“I have a rod,” Bull grinned, and Dorian thumped his forehead against Bull’s shoulder with a groan. “Come on, you walked right into that one.”

“I did,” Dorian sighed. “Now, for the last time, Bull. Stop dawdling and let me out of this bloody outfit, or let me do it for you. You’re driving me crazy.”

“You’re impatient today, kadan.” Bull chuckled, but dutifully untied Dorian’s hands, kissing him again with fervor before the mage slipped off of his lap, and began to remove the complicated outfit.

Bull watched with interest as Dorian pinched the fabric at his left shoulder and pulled, a hidden clasp coming undone. The fabric unfolded from around Dorian’s shoulders, the sleeves sliding off and the rest untwisting from around Dorian’s torso and legs, revealing itself to be one large piece of fabric rather than a shirt, as Bull had supposed. Underneath that was a sort of sleeveless tunic, gloves that went up to mid bicep, and close-fitting black pants that fed into knee-high boots, which had an intricate series of buckles on their own that made Bull dizzy to look at.

Bull shook his head. “How did you even put that on?”

“Practice,” Dorian repeated, smirking. He lifted a leg and placed one boot next to Bull’s side. “Care to help me remove the rest of this?”

“I’ll take off the boots,” Bull smirked. “By the time I’m done with just one, the other boot will be all that’s left of your outfit.”

Dorian scoffed. “That’s hardly entertaining—oh.”

He broke off with a light gasp, his eyes sliding closed as Bull slid a hand to the top of his thigh, thumb stroking the inside of Dorian’s leg. His other hand was busy teasing Dorian’s hip, his thumb making circles on a spot Bull knew was sensitive.

“I’m not the one that’s been acting impatient, kadan,” Bull purred.

Dorian immediately began fumbling to undo the buckles holding his gloves up, and Bull discovered that most of the buckles on the boots were an illusion; the first buckle (shaped like a snake wrapping around Dorian’s leg) was holding the boot closed, and after a few more clasps the boot slid off of Dorian’s leg. Bull pulled it off slowly, kissing Dorian’s knee as the boot fell to the floor with a dull thud.

“Tease,” Dorian muttered.

Bull glanced up to see Dorian was already finished with the gloves and was getting ready to take off the shirt. Bull smirked and waited until the shirt had joined the other discarded clothes on the floor before abruptly standing, trading places with Dorian.  
Dorian watched as Bull began undoing the other boot, and then had to grab the bedsheets in both fists as Bull began mouthing his crotch through the fabric of his pants.

“ _Vishante kaffas_ ,” Dorian swore, his shoulders shaking slightly with the amount of self-control he suddenly had to exert. “Amatus—”

“Are we finished with the role-play?” Bull asked, his mouth still between Dorian’s legs. The mage sucked in a breath, unsure of whether or not he could stay in character for this part.

“N-not yet,” Dorian decided, shaking his head.

Bull paused and glanced up. “You remember the watchword?”

“Yes, yes,” he nodded impatiently. “If I say ‘katoh,’ you stop.”

Dorian inhaled deeply and then opened his eyes, managing to put on an intimidating stare despite the heated flush in his cheeks. “Now, if you’re quite finished—”

Bull silenced him by mouthing his crotch again, doing his best to thoroughly soak the fabric with his tongue. Dorian hissed softly, and it was through sheer willpower he managed to keep his eyes open and mouth closed, the image of his created persona carrying him through the motions of prideful resistance.

“Watch it, _saarebas_ ,” Bull crooned, his hands sliding up the back of Dorian’s calves and pulling his legs apart a little more. “You’re to do what I tell you now, isn’t that right?”

Dorian grit his teeth. “I am hardly your servant, oxman. I’ll not be taking orders from you.”

Bull sat up and tugged gently on Dorian’s collar, pulling his mouth down against his own, kissing him in just the right way that he knew would make Dorian melt. His tongue and teeth encouraged Dorian’s lips apart, deepening the kiss substantially. He pulled away after a full minute of that, licking his lips as he observed Dorian’s dizzy expression.

“I think you will,” he smirked. He tugged on the collar again. “This is proof of our agreement, Magister. And until I take it off, you’re going to do whatever I tell you.”

Dorian panted, licking his own lips. “Be…be that as it may, you don’t own me. I’ll never bow to you, or your kind. Ever.”

Bull let go and calmly began working Dorian’s pants off. “Lie down.”

Dorian frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Bull looked at Dorian evenly. “Lie down. Or I’ll tie your hands again.”

Dorian folded his arms, deciding it was time to be a tad rebellious. “That won’t make me any more cooperative.”

“Won’t it?” Bull picked up the rope again, making Dorian’s cock twitch with anticipation. “Then you won’t have a problem if I tie you up again, will you?”

“I am hardly a simple toy for you to do with whatever you like,” Dorian sneered. “I am a Magister of the Tevinter Imperium, trusted advisor of the Magisterium’s Archon. I will not be toyed with.”

During this speech, Bull had begun lacing the rope through the hoop in Dorian’s collar and around his arms and wrists. He gave the mage a reassuring kiss on the lips when he’d finished.

“And now you’re the informant and spy for the Arishok of Par Vollen.” Bull gently pushed Dorian down and placed a hand on either side of Dorian’s head, smirking down at him.

Dorian’s eyes widened in genuine surprise; he hadn’t seen that coming. “You’re—?!”

Bull blinked, and then realized Dorian had misunderstood him. He decided to roll with it, however, and grinned down at him. “I am. And I have all the power I need to either set up an ambush, or ensure the Archon’s safety. And considering I’m not threatening to kill you or convert you to the Qun, being my toy is the least you could do to repay me for my kindness.”

Dorian’s eyes narrowed up at the Qunari that loomed over him. He couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of blasphemy in this. “…Very well. Do as you please. But mark my words, Arishok, I won’t forget this.”

“I’m counting on it,” Bull purred. “Now stay down, that’s a good boy.”

Dorian growled, Tevene insults lying thick on his tongue, only to be stuttered into silence as Bull removed his pants. For all his bravado, Dorian was already fully hard, and he didn’t need to look at Bull to know the man was fully enjoying the sight.

“Are you sure you aren’t eager for me, _saarebas_?” Bull’s hot breath could be felt just below his navel, making Dorian’s skin erupt in goosebumps. He licked his lips nervously, sheer willpower preventing him from making a sound as Bull spread his legs. “Don’t worry, Magister. I’ll take good care of you.”

Dorian felt Bull’s mouth on him and let out a soft moan, his eyes shutting tight at the glorious sensation of the Qunari’s tongue against his cock.

Bull reached into his pocket one-handed and, without taking his mouth off of Dorian, opened a small bottle of lube and poured it onto his fingers, working it until it was warm. He spread Dorian’s legs a little farther, and pressed the index finger of his right hand against and into Dorian’s entrance, not bothering to be slow about it.  
Dorian arched his back, with a sudden gasp, and then groaned with unrestrained pleasure as Bull took advantage of the movement to take Dorian into his mouth entirely.

“V- _venhedis_!” Dorian cursed, the sound more of a moan than a hiss. “You don’t—ah!...You truly don’t hold back, do you?”

Bull purred, hollowing his cheeks in order to create more suction, licking away the precum that was already coating Dorian’s cock. Dorian’s head fell back and he moved his legs to a more favorable position—around Bull’s shoulders—and tried not to lose himself as Bull’s index finger worked him open.

By the time Bull’s third finger was inside and almost finished doing its job, Dorian was pleading for Bull to fuck him, his hips working fruitlessly to get his needs met.

“Please, please, please…” Dorian whimpered, Bull’s fingers achingly close to his prostate. “Bull, please…”

Bull pulled himself off with a quiet pop, making Dorian moan with disappointment at the loss of warmth. “Not yet, Kadan. I’m not finished with you yet.”

Dorian whined, heavily lidded eyes looking at Bull pleadingly.

Bull smirked. “Is there something you want from me, _saarebas_?”

Dorian’s act was barely holding together as he recalled their respective roles. “Please, Arishok. Fuck me. _Fuck me_.”

Bull nodded and pulled his fingers out slowly, teasing Dorian even further. “That’s better. Doesn’t it feel good to be honest?”

Dorian just nodded, listening to the sound of Bull’s various articles of clothing hitting the ground. He felt a hand grab the ropes around his chest, and he was lifted into a sitting position. He met Bull’s lips desperately, groaning quietly against Bull’s mouth. He tasted himself, the odd saltiness only increasing his need for more.

The “Arishok” laughed as he pulled away, though it wasn’t an unkind one. “Damn, you look hot. I should show you a mirror.”

Dorian’s patience was quickly running thin, though he didn’t quite mind the staring. “And you’re keeping me waiting.”

Bull chuckled and lifted Dorian until the mage was facing the other way, stomach pressed against the mattress and his ass in the air.

“I have to hand it to you, ‘Vint.” Bull smirked, slicking himself up. “You’re damn gorgeous to look at.”

“And we’re going to do this like animals,” Dorian tried to twist around to arch an eyebrow at him, but the ropes made it all but impossible.

“Dirty animals,” Bull agreed, grinning.

Dorian groaned, his head falling forward, muttering something in reply.

Bull just chuckled again and kissed the small of Dorian’s back, spreading his ass with both hands. He lined them up with practiced ease, teasing his tip near Dorian’s entrance, rubbing his hard cock just along his rim. Dorian tried to lean back against it, whining softly.

“Shh,” Bull smirked, his thumbs rubbing reassuring circles on Dorian’s hips. “I’m going to take good care of you, little _saarebas_.”

Dorian, caught up in the ropes, wasn’t able to do much more than curse at him, his voice muffled by the sheets, a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead. “ _Kaffas_ , just put it in already. You’re driving me crazy.”

“You saying you want me to rush things?” Bull braced a hand on the bed and pressed himself in, his cock sliding in with barely any effort.

Dorian’s reply was lost in the subsequent cry of sudden pleasure, his body keening into the sensations Bull was providing. Bull leaned down and sucked on Dorian’s shoulder, leaving a large, wet bruise.

The Qunari waited until Dorian had adjusted before lifting him up by the hips, guiding his knees up onto the bed so they could stay spread while he pulled Dorian upright. He wrapped one hand through the ropes, and the mage rested the back of his head on Bull’s shoulder. Bull could smell Dorian’s sweat and his lust was almost palpable, eyes closed and mouth partially open, pliant like putty in Bull’s capable hands.

Bull tested the position and found it was easy to move, so he did, thrusting himself forward slowly before building up a rhythm.

The sounds Dorian made were soft at first, light gasps of pleasure and sighs of contentment as Bull finally started to meet his needs. Eventually, however, Bull wrapped his remaining hand around Dorian’s cock, his grip perfect by practice, and Dorian unconsciously thrust himself into Bull’s hand with a loud groan.

Bull grunted himself, the effort of keeping himself standing while holding Dorian upright turning into a challenge. “That’s it. Use that voice of yours, kadan. Tell me exactly how it is I’m making you feel right now.”

Dorian was too far gone to argue, his hips working desperately to keep up with Bull while his head pressed against the Qunari’s shoulder. “ _Fasta vass_ , Bull, that f-feels…You’re perfect, oh—right there, yes—that feels perfect, please don’t stop—”

He broke off to let out an even louder moan, Bull’s hand slick with his precome, and Bull licked some of the sweat off of Dorian’s brow.

“That’s right,” Bull murmured in his ear. “Don’t hold back, now. You’ve been so good, little _saarebas_. Don’t worry about anything except the feeling of having me inside you, fucking you nice and deep.”

Dorian’s voice cracked, his concentration wavering dangerously. “I w-want you to fuck me until I come. Bull, please…I’m so close, please…”

Bull nodded and slowed his rhythm, hushing Dorian’s complaints as he began to undo Dorian’s ropes. They fell off with ease, Bull putting them off to the side, and he pulled himself out long enough to turn Dorian over until he was lying on his back, his legs wrapped around Bull’s hip. Dorian’s cheeks were flushed and his hair was a mess, eyes glazed with lust and a plea for Bull to finish what he started on his lips. It was a beautiful picture, and Bull began to work back up to the rhythm he had before, leaning down to capture those beautifully swollen lips with his own.

Dorian kissed back with near frenzy, his hands gripping Bull’s horns tightly to prevent him from pulling away. They both grunted and moaned, Dorian’s lips parting with a gasp, and Bull gripped Dorian’s hip hard enough to leave bruises.

He fucked Dorian hard enough to make the man cry out when he finally came, his entire body shuddering with pleasure, head dropping back with ecstasy. He clenched around Bull, making the Qunari groan. He pumped Dorian’s cock gently until it was soft in his hand, but it wasn't long before he gave a shout of his own, Dorian's name on his lips as he emptied himself inside the mage, shuddering with pleasure.

When Bull finally slowed and pulled himself out with a groan, Dorian was watching with heavily lidded eyes. He made room for Bull to lie down, Bull pulling him into his arms, and they lay together, listening to their harsh breathing and pounding heartbeats. Bull breathed in Dorian’s familiar scent, the Tevene perfume mixing with the scent of styling gel and sex. Dorian simply lay in Bull’s arms, completely exhausted but satisfied.

After their breathing had slowed, Bull sat up, cradling Dorian in his arms, and carefully removed the leather collar. He set Dorian down on the bed and got up for a cloth, dampening it in the washbasin before returning to clean Dorian off thoroughly. He focused on washing off a few of the minor rope burns Dorian had acquired before cleaning himself off last.

Dorian watched as Bull pulled out a salve for rope burns and snorted derisively. “I’m a mage, amatus. I can heal myself just fine.”

Bull sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed Dorian’s hair back, smiling. “Yeah, but I still want to make sure you get taken care of all the same. You’re tired. Let me do this for you, and after you’ve rested you can finish healing yourself. Alright?”

Dorian, too exhausted to argue, just nodded and lay back, closing his eyes while Bull worked the salve gently into each bruise and burn, fingers massaging out any tension that might still exist and soothing away any pains Dorian might have.

Dorian dozed lightly. There was no shame, no laughter at the fact that he’d begged and pleaded, no mocking tone at the compromising position he’d been put in. Even the roleplay had undertones of genuine care, something he still wasn’t quite used to. It made him feel safe, and the amount of care Bull was putting into the aftercare made him feel…well. Loved.

Dorian hummed and stalled Bull’s hand with his own, bringing his knuckles up to his lips. “That’s more than enough, amatus. Lie down with me.”

Bull chuckled but didn’t argue, setting the salve aside and laying down on his back. Dorian curled up into his side, head resting against his shoulder. Bull tugged a blanket up over both of them, ensuring that they wouldn’t get cold after sweating so much, kissing the top of his head as he did. “Comfortable?”

“I am,” Dorian replied, smiling lazily.

Bull chuckled, stroking Dorian’s back slowly. “We’ll say you escaped later on.”

“I’m not sure,” Dorian smirked, his hand resting on Bull’s chest. “I think I enjoy being captured by giant men with horns. I’ll save the escape attempt for next time.”

Bull laughed, bringing up Dorian’s hand to kiss it, focusing on each individual finger and knuckle, earning a chuckle in return. “I’ll keep that in mind. Sleep now, kadan. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Dorian smiled. “Thank you, Bull.”

“ _Te amo, amatus_ ,” Bull replied softly, his Tevene accent much more accurate this time.

Dorian laughed gently and nuzzled himself further into the embrace. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> 1\. What should we talk about?  
> 2\. Anything you want.  
> 3\. Let’s talk about love, my heart.  
> 4\. And perhaps the act of loving, if you care to join me on this bed.  
> 5\. You know I’d be happy to join you.  
> 6\. I did, indeed.  
> 7\. I love you.  
> 8\. I want to have sex with you.  
> 9\. Allow me to pleasure you, my love.  
> 10\. Pretty words. Can you act on them?  
> 11\. I can do more than that.  
> 12\. I hear you, mage-staff (referring to Dorian’s cock). Rebel against this experienced navigator, and I’ll hold you down.  
> 


End file.
